Adhering to Limits Only Makes You Crazy
by mydoctortennant
Summary: Relationships like their’s always have their limits, but when you don’t let it bother you you’ll always be happier.


When Arthur had opted to help rebuild the lower town over the castle the townsfolk had heralded him 'The People's Prince'. Little did they know that his choice had been merely selfish. Had he stayed in the castle he would have never seen Guinevere, and with their 'relationship' as difficult as it was, he didn't want to limit his time with her more by staying in the castle, which compared to the town was relatively unscathed.

Like the selfless person she was, Gwen had taken to helping those who had suffered around her. Her small home had managed to escape the majority of the attacks; only her little porch had collapsed. Compared to others she had been lucky.

Arthur's presence in the lower town hadn't gone unnoticed by her. She had spotted him working on the Miller's home. Businesses had taken the priority over houses so people could have the conveniences and food supplies. Those whose homes had suffered greatly were being shown the kindness of others in their hospitality.

For the most part, Gwen had been helping the families with children. She'd kept them entertained, and kept them out of the workers way. The rest of her free time was spent tending to the injuries sustained in the battle, or acquired during the repairs. She had little time to herself, but in times such as these, so did everybody else.

"Miss Gwen! Miss Gwen!"

"What is it Cecelia?" a lithe figure came bustling into the makeshift clinic. Her bright blonde hair flashed through the room, and Gwen felt her grab her hand and drag her towards the door, "What's wrong?"

"It's the Prince, Miss Gwen. 'E was 'elpin' and 'e fell."

Her rational mind ceased. Last she had seen he had been repairing the Miller's roof.

"Mister Miller said to get you, Miss Gwen, said you'd 'elp. 'E's taken 'im inside," Cecelia rushed Gwen into the Miller's home. The Miller was stood over a small bunk in the corner of the room, on which lay the Crowned Prince of Camelot.

"What happened?" she asked, trying not to allow her mind and judgement be clouded by the individual in question.

"Plank he was using gave way. He landed on his feet but then the plank got him as it fell off the roof. Clonked him on the head good and proper it did. Got a bit of a bump but no more visual signs. Thought I'd call you in to be sure," he explained. Gwen took to examining her patient, the Miller was right, there didn't appear to be anything wrong.

"Thank you, Matthew. Would you be able to get me a bowl of water and a cloth?" the Miller nodded, "he's managed to knock himself out," Gwen knew she shouldn't, but if Merlin had been here, he would have, so Gwen laughed. Only Arthur would manage to escape a lethal accident, only to get knocked out in the process.

Matthew returned moments later with a bowl and cloth and handed it to Gwen; "I'll leave you to it, Gwen. I'm sure he's in capable hands."

"Thank you, Matthew."

-

Arthur groaned. He shifted on the hard wood of the bed. Gwen removed the cool cloth from his forehead.

"Arthur?" he shifted again, a disgruntled moan escaping his lips. He slowly opened his eyes, a little drowsy and very confused.

"Guinevere?" he pushed himself up onto his elbows, rubbing his forehead, "What happened?"

"You fell off the roof."

"So that's why my head hurts?"

"No. That would be the plank of wood that landed on you after you gracefully landed, so I'm told," she couldn't help the mirth in her voice. Arthur allowed himself to fall back into the bed.

"It's not funny."

"You have to admit, my lord, it is a little."

"I'm glad you find my displeasure entertaining, Guinevere."

"Lighten up Arthur, you're fine. I shall check on you in an hour. I must go," Gwen stood to leave, only to have Arthur reach out and took her hand. He pulled her back around to face him, and placed a delicate kiss to her knuckles, "Arthur, this isn't the place."

"Merely showing my gratitude."

"Arthur-"

"Come now Guinevere, we have nothing to fear."

"Arthur, we cannot."

"Why not?"

"Here is not the place."

"Then when can I see you? When is right, Guinevere? We should not be limited by our titles."

"Maybe so, my lord, but we are."

-

After her rounds Gwen returned to the Miller's home. All activity had ceased. The day's work on the roof over. She approached the door and knocked. The Miller answered, on seeing Gwen his brow knitted.

"Gwen?"

"I've come to check on the Prince," she reasoned, only to have the Miller's furrowed brow to crease further.

"He left hours ago, Gwen. Said something about not adhering to limits. Said you'd understand,"

Gwen thanked him and left him to his evening with his family.

-

Gwen approached her home, she stopped in her tracks as she saw that her porch was now erect, and there was a flickering light streaming out of her window, that only caused by a fire.

When she opened her door she hadn't expected to find the blonde-haired Prince stood at her range with his back to her.

"Arthur?"

"Ah, finally!" he turned to present two plates and headed to the table, "I shall not pretend to cook as I have not. But after your long day, I did not think you would want the hassle of cooking," he pulled out the bench and gestured for Gwen to sit.

"And my porch?" she asked as she did so.

"Half an hours work, for the woman I love, is hardly much effort."

"Arthur-"

"Please, eat," he sat and picked up his cutlery.

"Won't your father be expecting you?" Gwen asked as she tucked into her meal.

"I sent word, telling him that I would be returning late, as works were ongoing, and that I would dine on my return in my quarters."

"Thank you, Arthur."

"Any time."

-

"I meant what I said, Guinevere."

"Arthur?"

"Any time you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. No limits," they shared a soft smile, the corner of the Prince's mouth twitched upwards. A moment of shared silence was savoured by the pair, knowing that it may very well be the last time.

Gwen made to move, picking up her plate and reaching for Arthur's.

"Here, let me," Arthur reached to take the plates from her, but she pulled them away.

"You have fixed my porch, stoked my fire, and given me dinner. Let me wash the plates."

"Guinevere, it's fine. Please sit."

"Just how hard did that plank hit you earlier?"

"Hard enough," he smiled, taking the plates to the sink and taking the boiled water from the stove. He poured a little onto the plate and scoured it, and placed it on the side to dry.

Gwen seized her moment, and grabbed a piece of dried cloth. She picked up the slave Arthur had just washed and began to dry it as he washed the other plate.

"We make a good team," he laughed, giving her the second plate.

"Washing and drying is hardly a difficult task, Arthur."

"Why must you put down all that we do?"

"Because this is all it will ever be. A moment here; a moment there. The limitations are against us."

"Guinevere, there are only limits if you say they are so," he dried his hands using the cloth in her hands, his fingers brushing hers as he held it. Her gaze flickered to his hands. Following his hand is he raised one to her cheek, "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll leave you be."

He watched her as she swallowed, her nervous stare not leaving his face, he could feel her unsteady breathing on the pad of his thumb.

"Just tell me to stop," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He traced his thumb over her bottom lip. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He stooped his head and stopped just before his lips touched hers giving her one last chance to pull away.

She didn't.

She leant into him, closing the final has between them. He kissed her lightly at first. Several feather light kisses. Once he withdrew just to look at her. Only a second before his lips net hers again. His hand moved from the cloth to her waist, her hands dropping momentarily to her sides, not knowing what to do with them. She clenched her fists and released them before one of her hands found his belt and the other the nape of his neck.

As Arthur gently moved his mouth against hers, the tip of his tongue slid against her bottom lip.  
She gasped against him. He pulled away from her sharply at the sudden noise, "Sorry, Guinevere, I shouldn't allow myself to get carried away."

"I never told you to stop," Arthur smirked in response, "it just came as a surprise is all."

When the Prince fell in love with the handmaiden he knew there would be limits that they would have to overtake. His father for one. His - and her - position. But somehow, some way, they would find a path that would lead them on the path to the lives they deserved.

Little did they know, not only was there path set in stone, but their love was the stuff of legend.


End file.
